Tight Spot
by Child of Loki
Summary: Sarah finds herself in a tight spot along with a certain 'soldier boy'... Sarah/Becker


**Disclaimer: I don't own Primeval or its characters…**

**Author's Note: Don't know why, but I took to the idea of Becker and Sarah the most… (even though Abby and Connor are fricken adorable!) Thus some randomness just for the fun of it...taking place during series 3 sometime?  


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Dr. Sarah Page moaned her discomfort as her body objected to the sudden impact and the world quickly went dark.

"You alright?" A concerned voice asked from very close. It took a dizzying second for reality to reassert itself in her aching head.

Becker; it was Becker who had forced her to outrun those prehistoric insects (always with the insects!). It was Becker who had basically tackled her, propelling them both off the warehouse's catwalk and crashing into the small, metal (and thankfully) empty container. It was Becker whose body was hovering extremely close above hers.

"I-I don't know," she whispered back, unsure whether she was being quiet because she could hear the faint beating of the creatures' wings nearby or that the nature of the tiny dark space demanded quiet. "I think I hit my head."

Something squirmed beneath her back and she nearly screamed before realizing that it was his hand, making its way up to examine her head.

"You don't seem to be bleeding," he announced, concern edging his voice. "You could have a concussion, though."

"I don't think so," she replied quietly, already feeling the ache ebbing away.

"That was a bit of a tight spot back there," Becker commented breathlessly. Sarah blinked in a futile attempt to make her eyes adjust to the dark of the cramped container. There was something odd in his ragged breathing.

"_That_ was a tight spot?" she asked sarcastically, shifting uncomfortably beneath him until he let out a little grunt that could only mean she had accidentally hit a sensitive bit with her knee. She froze, afraid of what further trouble wiggling about blindly might cause.

"Sorry," she apologized, regretting the choice of that sassy pencil skirt for the second time since she had picked it out of the closet that morning. Her squirming had worked it up almost completely around her waist, and of course, she had stopped trying to shift into a more comfortable position with Becker's body basically in between her legs.

"It's fine." Still, he seemed breathless, panting even. It didn't make sense for her to have recovered her breath long before the highly trained military man who was used to extreme physical exertion. She really wished that she could see his face...

"What's wrong?" she probed.

"I think one of those wasp-things stung me," he replied in an otherwise nonchalant tone despite the gasping draughts of air. Now the situation was a bit clearer. He was no doubt in a good deal of pain, yet rather effectively hiding it from her.

"Where?" Even had there been some light in the metal coffin of a box, they were forced into such proximity that she wouldn't have been able to see the location or nature of the wound anyway.

"My back," he replied, his voice strained. She felt him shift, a useless attempt to free a hand. Both of his arms were hopelessly pinned beneath her, and lifting her body enough to loose them was not something she desired to do. They were already far too close than anything resembling appropriate space. Instead she moved her hand already resting at his shoulder down his back slowly, using touch alone to locate any injury.

A low, harsh moan in his throat informed her of a stifled outcry as her hand bumped something hard protruding from what seemed to be between his 8th and 9th ribs. Gingerly she felt around the spike with her fingertips. In the absence of her eyes, her mind painted an all too vivid an image of with what she was dealing.

"I think...I think the stinger is still in you," she told him shakily. There was some wetness beside the protruding spike, but the stinger itself seemed to have stemmed the flow of blood.

"You need medical attention," she announced idiotically. _Stupid, Sarah!_ Like he wasn't already aware of the fact. "Maybe we should check to see if they're gone..."

The silence stretched on to the point where if she had not been acutely aware of every breath he took, she would've questioned whether he was still alive. She began to open her mouth but shut it instead, hearing at the same moment the reason for his silence. The vicious swarm of giant wasp-like creatures was nearby...very nearby.

"The others should be here, soon, right?" Sarah began to panic, and not only because of the nightmarish creatures just beyond their hiding place which was beginning to feel more and more like a coffin. Even without seeing him, she knew Becker was in rough shape and only deteriorating with every passing moment.

"Right," he agreed quietly and in a manner contrary to his generally confident attitude. Another uncomfortable, silent moment passed, punctuated by the rasping of his struggling lungs and the faint (but oh so not faint enough) sound of wing beats.

His hand that still resided at the back of her neck felt cold and yet she could smell the perspiration coating his skin. Not good. Not good at all. As far as she was concerned, the temperature didn't seem to be in either extreme, even in their cramped little box. The only heat of which she was aware was emanating from Becker.

"What are those things anyway?" he asked her in as conversational a tone that could be mustered by someone struggling to take in air as if he were slowly drowning.

"You know I'm not the 'creature' expert," she announced quietly. "And as far as I know these have never shown up during any other time in history. Sorry."

"I think..." He began but stopped to take a few lung-rattling breaths. "I think that thing might have some venom in it."

"The stinger?" For once she was glad of the dark that he didn't witness the alarm quite apparent on her face.

"Yeah," he confirmed calmly. How could he remain so calm at a time like this?! "I'm having difficulty staying conscious. You had better pull it out."

Sarah swallowed hard.

"I-I can't do it."

"Please, Sarah."

She knew she had no choice but to remove it from his back, but...

"You'll bleed to death!"

There was a loud metal clang, as her raised voice attracted a creature to investigate and try its luck at smashing into the side of the metal box. They both started, which made Becker groan in pain and Sarah's sympathy grow. She wanted to help him, really she did, more than he knew. But she was pretty sure she had read somewhere that removing the objects from impaled victims is what really kills them. And "We don't have a first aid kit and neither one of us exactly has the mobility to rip up some clothing."

"Use your finger."

"What?!" Sarah hissed, careful to control her volume lest the creatures make another more successful attempt at finding them.

"Just stick your finger in the wound to stop any bleeding." He paused, his hand gently stroking her neck in a reassuring gesture. "You can do this."

She nodded her head even though he couldn't see her. "Okay."

Probing around in the dark, she located the offending spike once more. She could barely reach it, her fingertips just brushing against the cold, hard stinger. Snaking her other hand around him, she tried from the other direction. There wouldn't be enough leverage for her to dislodge it quickly and cleanly (god, she hoped it would come cleanly).

"I can't reach," she whispered quietly. "You'll have to get closer."

Her skin was instantly aware of the pressure, as his body lowered further down to hers, brushing against previously untouched places and pressing against those that it had already teased with his presence. The heat of him threatened to overwhelm almost more than the anxiety of her task.

She wrapped her arms around him, an embrace that would otherwise make her blush if it weren't for the circumstances that had necessitated its initiation. His chest was broad and firm, the muscles of his back equally tight; a very fine specimen...

_Focus!_

"Are you ready?" she queried, wrapping her hands around the abnormally large bit of hard exoskeleton. She took a couple deep breaths, working up the courage to rip the thing from Becker's flesh, to cause him more pain than he was already experiencing.

"Do it," he commanded over her hesitancy.

Not letting herself think, she obeyed his order before she could change her mind. Thankfully, it was freed from his back in one swift, unhindered movement. There were no jagged spots or unpleasant hooks to keep it buried in the flesh of its victim. Hastily placing it to one side, she found the deep puncture that had become much too wet much too quickly as it began to spew blood, and buried her index finger in as deep as she could before she could cower from the thought of it.

The fluid only seemed slightly assuaged from the presence of her finger, so she ventured to cram another digit beside the first, finally plugging the hole that threatened to drain the man of every last drop of blood.

Again, she could hear the cries of pain stifled deep in his throat. This time, however, they had transitioned into a guttural sort of growl as she pushed her fingers deep inside of his incised flesh. The pain was no doubt overwhelming, so she was not all that surprised when he turned silent.

The entirety of his weight suddenly crushing her as he lost consciousness was a bit more of a shock. She hadn't realized how much he had been lifting himself up off from her, especially since the majority of his body had been so close that there seemed not a molecule of air between them.

"Becker," she spoke softly, cursing herself for failing to ever inquire as to his given name. When the quiet probing failed to rouse him from unconsciousness, she tried to revive him by gently tapping the side of his head with hers. Not only did this fail to wake the man, but Sarah instead found herself nuzzling his notably soft cheek, the very beginnings of stubble barely noticeable against her own smooth skin.

And his scent, despite the sweat and iron-tinge of blood, tantalized her in ways she really had rather not consider at that moment. She shifted uncomfortably beneath his dead weight, the whole of her front rubbing against him in a manner that made her acutely aware of her breasts being crushed between their chests and an unwelcome, tingling need nascent deep in her belly. The thoughts really needed to stop.

But oh, had it been such a long time since she was so close to a man, since she had felt that flush and the heat of his body, felt his heartbeat... Oh god, it was so disturbing to feel the 'thump-thump' of his heart from within his body. Its rhythm pounded against her fingers, clashing with her own heart's beat as it penetrated her veins.

How close was she to touching what the Egyptian's thought was the essence of a person's soul? Would she be able to feel the honor of the man? Would she discover any burdens that weighed upon it? Or was it just an organ, one that was threatening to fail?

Where were the others?!

She shifted again, a futile attempt to alter their circumstances and avoid getting crushed any further.

_Oh, hello, Becker!_

"I hope that's your gun," she whispered rhetorically to the unconscious man. It most definitely wasn't, which gave her more reason to want out of the metal coffin for she must be very disturbed indeed to find herself aroused by an injured, unconscious man who was bleeding all over her.

But if he were still awake...

::Sarah!!:: Becker!!::

The faint shouting was exactly the snap back to reality she needed. She allowed herself a sigh of relief before she began to shout for their attention.

And Sarah knew that she would never again complain about being shut up in the truck like sardines with her fellow team members.

END


End file.
